


Giving Good Phone

by paraboobizarre



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-25
Updated: 2007-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraboobizarre/pseuds/paraboobizarre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What to do on a lazy afternoon when there's nothing really to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Good Phone

She weaved her way through the maze of cubicles, hoisting up her bag so as not to knock over any of the various items cluttering the desks of her co-workers. It was a burning hot afternoon in late August and the air in the central was stuffy. The endless murmuring of a good seventy people taking phone calls lay like a carpet of white noise over the vast expanse of the office floor.

Finally she arrived at her cubicle, bumping into Werner who was just packing up his bag, since his shift had ended a couple of minutes ago. Werner was a lanky, slightly weird-looking guy, maybe a little older than herself. Not that she knew that much about him; they only ever had the chance to talk while they were trading phone stations. He wasn't particularly attractive. If pushed to sum his appearance up in one word she would have said: Rodent. He had a strange rodent-like appeal, peculiar rat-ish face, little black beetle eyes that seemed to sit at different angles in his acne-scared face; but Werner had a nice enough voice and he knew how to talk – and that was basically all that counted.

She leaned against the plywood frame of the cubicle, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Riding the bike in the sweltering afternoon heat had definitely not been one of her best ideas.  
“So, busy afternoon?” She finally asked, feeling compelled to at least have a little small-talk. Werner just shook his head and stuffed his jacket into his backpack.  
“Not really, guess all the gays are somewhere tanning themselves, too busy checking out the fresh meat on display there, than to call me.” He chuckled quietly, while he logged off the system. The screen flickered and then there was the plain login-client page, with the company's bold logo across the page.

“Don't despair though...I bet some straight guys are waiting, phone and dick in hand, just for you.” He winked at her. Hoisting up his enormous rucksack, he winced as the heavy thing almost knocked him off his feet.

“I'm off now. Gotta hurry. It's our first anniversary today and my girlfriend insisted I take her out to that fancy Italian restaurant vis á vis the theater.” He gave her a companionable slap on the shoulder, before he jogged down the aisle and soon vanished out of sight.

She looked after him, slightly bewildered. Werner was straight? He had a girlfriend? She discarded the thought, as she logged into the system; she was no slutty housewife either, yet had worked the phone as one for a good three months as well. Sighing softly, she toed off her sneakers under the table and messed with her headset while waiting for the program to load.

In the beginning she had always had problems getting the damn thing to work for her; it wasn't that much different now – she still didn't quite catch the intricate odds and ends of it, but it had definitely improved. After all, she was only supposed to take the call routed to her station, the application recorded the length of the talk and what the hell else they recorded with every incoming call; if a customer got nasty or violated any of the rules of conduct, she could write a comment or complain about him into that little box and swoosh it all got sent to God only knew where and these people who handled that kind of stuff would take care of it. So really, all she was supposed to do was talk and listen. Checking the little header on top of the page, she saw her hopes confirmed; she was to be a horny, sex-crazed student today. That one was easy enough, she thought as she saw the red light on her phone blinking, heard the subtle clicking sound in her ear-phones that told her she had her first customer for today.

Clearing her throat, she reached for the button to accept the call...  
The line crackled as it connected her to whomever. She just referred to them as Mr X in her head; the names they gave were probably always made up ones, so why even bother.  
“Hello there, sweety!” She purred out, still messing with the knots in the head-sets cable.

There was a long pause, which almost always meant new guy, a first-timer. Those guys were always a bit shy at first, didn't know how it worked. Finally, Mr X grew the balls to reply. Her eyebrows went up some when she heard a rather young, boyish voice.  
“Um...hi, I uhh...god, this is awkward...” She chuckled lightly and plowed on before he could say anything, or worse, have a change of mind and just hang up. Virgins took longer to come, which meant she would have a longer phone call with him, which, in turn meant, she'd be getting extra points in her chart; a couple of nervous virgins added up to a nice bonus at the end of the month. And God knew she needed one; Mr X right here would pay for her next pair of Martens.

“Nevermind, honey. This your first time you call here?” The purring was gone, as was the usual husky low edge. If anything, this was probably her own voice, normal Angi-voice She wanted him to feel at ease. Just don't hang up on me now! Again, a short pause.  
“Yeah, I umm...I'm just not really sure how this is supposed to work out?” The nerves in his voice were palpable. It was cute, kind of endearing.  
“Let's start with the basics then and we take it slow from there, alright? What's your name, baby?”

“Tom.” He blurted out; Angi bit down the laughter rising in her. That was pretty fast, maybe it was his real name, after all.  
“Mmmm, nice one!” Her eyes quickly scanned a list of names on her pinboard; she should have chosen a name before. Cursing herself silently, she opted for the first name that seemed student-sluttish enough. “I'm Charlize, but you can call me Charly if your want to.” The huskiness crept into her voice again; after working the phones for almost a year, four times a week, her various voices had become something of an unconscious thing. The low, breathy murmuring was always a good one, worked for almost everything; sex-crazed student girls called for a little giggling at times, a lightly more high-pitched tone of voice, too. It was, basically, nothing more than a sales pitch, her spiel and over the time she had gotten quite good at it.

“Charlize?” He sounded skeptical. “Charly it is then.” He added after a moment's hesitation.  
“Okay Tom, now...how do you want to do this, huh?” She stretched in her swiveling chair, her back cracking; she winced lightly as a flash of pain shot down her spine. She never sat right in those chairs, always hunched over – that was her punishment.

“I umm...hoped you would more or less start on your own? I guess?” She thought she could hear him swallow hard but then again, she might have just imagined that. Her hand reached down to her bag, fumbling with the zipper of an outer compartment.  
“Where are you right now? Your bedroom?” She tried hard keeping her voice even and smooth, even though she was practically contorting herself yoga-style to reach into that damn bag.  
“My hotelroom.” His voice had dropped a few notches, was deeper now; she took that as a good sign, he was relaxing at last.

“Mmmmhmmm, hotel room...” Her fingers finally gripped the nasty littler bugger she had searched for. Pulling it out, she shook the bottle of nail polish vigorously. “Big, comfy, king-size bed, I suppose?” Whenever had she gotten so much dirt under her fingernails?!  
“Big enough for two, I guess.” He laughed softly.  
 _Yeah, like...this is phone-sex, deary...for all I care you could be laying on a floating tire in the middle of the ocean..._

“Gawd, I imagine, you lying on that bed...just for me, a present to unwrap.” She sighed softly, picking at the dirt under her fingernail. “Crawling up between your legs, brushing along the insides of your thighs.” Angi took a deep, very audible breath. “You smell so gooooood...” She purred out in a low seductive voice, before she exhaled again, making sure her voice tipped into a barely audible moan at the end.

“Tell me what you look like...” Angi smiled to herself; he had a nice voice, when he toned it down to this lower pitch. Had she not found his accent to be slightly annoying, she would have been tempted to say he had a phone-sex voice as well. With deliberate slow and precise strokes she started painting the fingernails of her left hand, while she launched into a little standard description of Charlize, the ever horny co-ed.

“I'm rather petite, silky and long, auburn hair, big blue eyes...perky, firm breasts - “ The brush slipped and a fat glob of French Manicure Lilac landed on her cuticles; a curse was ready to spill out of her but she caught herself just before it happened; “...just a handful you know, but they feel really good when I touch myself...” She added hastily, before capping the bottle of nail polish again. She was not feeling up to multi-tasking today; for good measure she threw in one of the stereotypical cheer leading squad giggles, to make the whole thing seem a little more innocent and abashed. There was a short pause before he spoke again.  
“Could you please not do that squealing giggling stuff?” He sounded so utterly annoyed all of a sudden, it made her flinch.

“Sure, babe...I'll do whatever you want.” So raspy-voice it was. How predictable! He really was a true beginner, so she would just have to run through the protocol from A to Z. That sure was easier but it also made the call less interesting. Personally, Angi prefered callers who had a little experience with phone sex already, since those were the ones you could have a little action with, make it more interactive; wit new ones, it basically boiled down to her talking all the time, while they remained more or less silent and jacked off to the fantasies she constructed.

“Seeing you grow hard, that throbbing need straining against your pants, so hot and hard under my hand, as I rub you through your boxers...” She mewled dramatically, sighing deeply before she continued. “Just the thought of what I would like to do to you, how you would feel deep inside me...makes me soaking wet...” She heard him gasp softly but could not really tell whether it was because he was turned on or shocked by what she had just said.

She panted a little, feigning enthusiasm or what could be mistaken for earnest arousal. When no complaint followed, she simply continued with her little tale. “I'm straddling you, grinding down on that rock hard bulge in your pants, slipping my hand down between my legs, playing with my clit...it's hot and moist, smells sweet, my finger glides right down the slit...” Angi let her voice trail off and listened intently; she thought she had detected a faint hissing sound but she was not sure. Was he enjoying himself? She was almost on the brink of just plainly asking him, even though that would only disturb her little tale, she was dishing out to him, when a moan so lascivious and utterly depraved it might as well have come straight from the audio track of a really good porn, reached her ears. Her eyebrows shot up in a mixture of delight and profound amazement. Somebody was having a really good time here.

“Go on...” The total abandon in his voice made it hard for Angi to keep up 'the' voice he obviously liked so much. She fought for a couple of moments, regaining her concentration; the last thing Mr X needed now was to hear her voice dance in barely suppressed merriment.

“Let me suck your cock, please...” She whined in a longing voice, while groping around in her bag for her mid-afternoon snack. Time for one of the nice little tricks she had learned from one of her co-workers. Banana-time. She quickly peeled the fruit, a big smile plastered across her face as she heard his breath getting caught in his throat. He was so jacking off right now. Good boy. She took a small bite of the banana, mashing the soft pulp against her palate, letting out an obscene moan, before she quickly swallowed and set down to the actual work, of sucking on the banana with explicit, audible slurps and sucking noises.

In the beginning she had always felt strange about it, but her initial apprehension had worn off quickly. There was really nothing that could compare to a banana, when it came down to imitating a big, sloppy blow job. Almost everyone did it; even Werner sucked on a banana while whispering away to his gay customers.

Angi sucked it deep into her mouth, making sure she gagged audibly round the fruit a couple of times; a soft noise, sounding almost like a sob, drifted through the line; her tongue swirling at the underside of it, coating it thoroughly in saliva, just like the real thing; the slicked up banana plopped out of her mouth with a wet sucking noise; his breathing had quickened by now, she could hear little pants and gasping noises. “Oh yeah, baby...you like that? Does it feel good?” She moaned into the headset, almost frenching the slippery banana. “My tongue all over you, licking and sucking your hard meat?”

“Mmmm make me take it, stuff your enormous cock down my throat, make me gag...” She always said enormous, or big...if she was feeling generous the anonymous dick might even get 'gigantic'. There was of course no telling if her description matched the real thing in any way, but the men never complained. So far she yet had to have a caller who objected and declared his noodle as minuscule at best. The way she looked at it, she was stroking egos rather then the actual dicks – it worked either way, really. A throaty moan cut through his labored breathing and she groaned round the banana in her mouth in response; the damn thing was getting more slippery by the minute, the tip of it, already so battered and mushed by her onslaught, that it threatened to fall off or dissolve;

“Are you close?” She asked in a raspy whisper, emphasizing the s in such a way she knew the hissy sound would make him shiver in delight. A wanton moan saw her suspicion confirmed. He would be done soon. Maybe she should invest in a nice dildo to suck on some time soon, she mused as she bit off the more tortured looking part of the banana and chewed on it contemplatively, making little mewling sounds all the while. Glancing at the clock Angi hoped he would come soon; she was already running a little low on ideas as she whispered some more expletives his way, each as dirty and utterly perverted as the next. That guy was really into dirty talk.

“Come for me baby, shoot your hot load right into my eager mouth!” She lapped at the mushy banana once again, making slurping and sucking noises while she grunted obscenely into the line. He sounded like he had just run a mile at full speed; his breath came in short, shallow gasps and he muttered indistinctly under his breath, she caught him saying 'her' name a couple of times. He was rather loud and explicit. She liked that, made her job a lot easier. Nothing was harder than to second-guess the reactions of customers who remained almost completely silent throughout. With him, she could tell he really like it. He groaned out; the sound, amplified through the headset, made her hair stand on edge; that groan should have been illegal.

“Shit, Charly...gawd!” She smiled, listening to his chocked-up moans coiling themselves into her ear. His ragged breathing echoed hollow and metallic through the line. Suddenly his constant noise dropped down in volume, was barely audible anymore. He had possibly let drop the telephone; that happened sometimes, when they were really having fun. She hummed to herself contently, quickly taking a couple of bites from her banana. Through her earphones she could hear a muffled whispering, rustling sound; probably him, shifting around, re-gaining his composure.

Then the line was clear again and she heard him clearing his throat;  
“Had fun, sweety?” It was time for normal Angi-voice again; now that he had come, there really was not need to rasp around in that stereotypical phone-sex pitch anymore. He chuckled, still a little short on his breath. “Yeah that was pretty...wow” A violent cough and a sigh followed.

She couldn't suppress a smile...a good thirty minutes – fat bonus! “Thanks for calling, baby. Have a nice day! Bye-bye.” She threw him out of the line, reaching for her water bottle. Her throat felt dry, as if lined with wallpaper. The air in here was simply too stuffy and dry. How was anyone supposed to perform in here...

___________________________

 

The hotel room was freaking huge. He felt like an intruder, everything so prim and ship-shape...until he had crashed in here, with his two bags and had managed to make a mess in less than five minutes. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking round the room, trying to make up his mind on what to do next. They were scheduled to appear at a party tonight, some fancy premiere or something of that kind. The stylist would not come before six o'clock and now it was not even three.

Their days were so crammed full that in the few instances, when they were not supposed to be at four different places simultaneously, time opened up before him like a big black hole. Which basically, drained all the fun out of his free time. He briefly considered going over to any of the guys' rooms but then again, he did not really feel like it. They practically lived in each other's pockets, no need to get any more of that.

His gaze lingered on the big plasma screen in front of him. Groaning out in frustration, he crawled onto the bed, his bony frame almost vanishing in the soft mattress. Reaching for the remote, he started zapping through the channels aimlessly. A couple of hours of free time and he sat alone in his hotel room watching television – how much more Rock'n'Roll could his life probably get?!

97, 98, 99...how many channels could one possibly need, he thought, as he continued pressing the channel-up button, swishing past a news channel, a cook show, a live broadcast of curling – God only knew, how this had ever come to be accepted as an Olympic discipline...his finger stopped on channel 112.

_Naughty co-eds looking for some hot one on one action..._ a blond with a sweet smile, wearing a skin-tight top and frazzled hot pants lolled around on a bed, tossing a smoldering look in the direction of the camera. _Call me..._ He stole a furtive glance in the direction of the phone. The idea was so absurd, almost hilarious, but still...why not try it. What harm could it do?

Ads of similar style droned on and on. Busty brunettes, fiery red-heads, either alone or in pairs, in hot tubs, on beds, an endless repeat of easily-remembered phone numbers. He dug through his bag, looking for his wallet with his credit card in it. It took him quite some time to find it, and even longer to sit on the bed, the hotel's wireless in one hand, his other hand nervously fidgeting with the plastic card, staring at the flickering screen, willing himself to finally grow the balls and call one of those hot lines. It was peanuts, he could always hang up if he didn't like it, it was no big deal after all. Pushing all his reservations aside, he punched in the number of the next best hot line...

The line cracked and a guy answered the phone. He blushed wildly, ready to stutter out an apology and hang up again immediately; had he dialed the number of a gay hot line? He let out an audible sigh of relief as the guy only asked about his credit card number and checked up his credibility status before telling him to have fun.  
The line clicked again. He felt his heartbeat starting to race and cursed himself silently for being such a baby.

“Hello there, sweety!” A low, murmuring voice wound its way into his ear. The voice sounded sexy but instead of enticing or arousing, it made him even more nervous than he already was. He swallowed down the lump in his throat.  
“Um...hi, I uhh...god, this is awkward...” His palm was slicked with sweat; pinching the phone between his shoulder and his ear, he wiped his hand on his pants.  
“Nevermind, honey. This your first time you call here?” Her tone had changed considerably. She sounded like a regular girl right now;

“Yeah, I umm...I'm just not really sure how this is supposed to work out?” Slouching deeper into the mattress, he wondered how old she might be; older than him, definitely, or else she would not be working, well, there...  
Her next question prevented him of thinking too hard about her age. A good thing, since his mind was ready to lapse into the notion he was to be getting phone from a woman about the same age as his mum...

“Let's start with the basics then and we take it slow from there, alright? What's your name, baby?” This sent his mind reeling; he couldn't possibly give his real name, or could he? What if she recognized his voice...it was outer faster than he could think, before he could even stop himself, Bill gave his brother's name.

“Mmmm, nice one!” Was the immediate response. He felt a strange sense of guilt for giving Tom's name. Even for make-believe sex he had to borrow something of his brother to make it work – how utterly embarrassing.  
“I'm Charlize, but you can call me Charly if your want to.” She rasped in that ostensibly sexy voice again; it irritated him to no end. “Charlize?” His eyebrows went up in disbelief; how much more contrived could it get. “Charly it is then,” he said, opting for the less strange alternative.

“Okay Tom, now...how do you want to do this, huh?” She was asking him?! Who was the one who did this on a daily basis...Bill shook his head, his brows knitting across his forehead.  
“I umm...hoped you would more or less start on your own? I guess?” He offered. It was only moments before she took up her end of the conversation, the practiced throaty pitch of her voice snaking its way into his ear.

“Where are you right now? Your bedroom?” Bill briefly wondered where this drivel was headed but more or less assumed she knew what she was doing. Relaxing back into the massive heap of cushions crowding the four poster bed, he replied. Truthfully this time, since he saw no point in lying about his exact location.  
“My hotel room.”

“Mmmmhmmm, hotel room...” She repeated the word, giving it an emphasis as though the sheer mentioning of a hotel room was, in and of itself, a terribly erotic thing. His eyebrows arched in interrogation. Was this supposed to be a turn-on?! Before he could object in any way, she simply continued. “Big, comfy, king-size bed, I suppose?”  
“Big enough for two, I guess.” Bill felt the heat rising into his cheeks; what a lame reply. This was phone-sex; it didn't seem to bother her, though, as Charly launched right into their little make-believe world.

“Gawd, I imagine, you lying on that bed...just for me, a present to unwrap.” The soft sigh floating through the earpiece of the phone made him shiver involuntarily.  
“Crawling up between your legs, brushing along the insides of your thighs.” He heard her inhaling, the sound of it crashing through the earpiece as if someone had hooked her up to an amp. Bill found it difficult to concentrate; closing his eyes, slouching deeper into the mass of pillows behind him, he tried hard to get the mental image his mind had produced at her first sentence out of his head. It didn't fit. Crawling up between your legs...all he saw in his mind's eye was the ghostly creature of the Grudge movies, creeping up under a mass of blankets. “You smell so gooooood...” She exhaled again but it barely registered with him, as he was still trying his best to erase Grudge girl from his fantasy, trying to imagine her instead.  
“Tell me what you look like...” Wiggling himself deeper into the pillows, he unbuttoned his pants with one swift hand; he was nowhere near being aroused now, it was more for himself, to get into the mood.

“I'm rather petite, silky and long, auburn hair, big blue eyes...” Her voice got progressively lower, almost as if she wanted to lull him to sleep. He couldn't remember any time someone had talked to him in voice like that; it was almost hypnotizing and he slowly felt his resistance melt away, as he settled even deeper into the mattress, his hand traveling across his stomach up to his chest and down again. “...perky, firm breasts...just a handful you know, but they feel really good when I touch myself...” Her short giggling laughter jerked him out of his concentration. Fan-girl sound. What a major turn-off!

“Could you please not do that squealing giggling stuff?” The last thing he wanted right now was for smooth sexy voice to assume that Banshee-like shrill, over-excited pitch that nearly blasted his eardrums at every meet and greet.  
“Sure, babe...I'll do whatever you want.” There it was again; this voice that sounded like she downed a bottle of whiskey with three packs of cigarettes each day. God only knew, why he found it so appealing...the gravelly low edge to it made him tremble with excitement every time she hissed through the line; it felt like being wrapped naked in a big velvet blanket.

“Seeing you grow hard, that throbbing need straining against your pants, so hot and hard under my hand, as I rub you through your boxers...” A short smile flickered over Bill's face, as his hand dropped down into his lap, starting to lightly stroke his growing erection through the cotton of his boxers. He was not ready in any way to pretend it was her hand – maybe he lacked the kind of vivid enough imagination to pull that off – but the way her soft voice crept into his ear, the deliciously naughty things she said, proved to be much more of a turn-on than he had ever expected. His fingers trembled a little as he slipped his hand into his boxers;

“Just the thought of what I would like to do to you, feel you deep inside me...makes me soaking wet...” His bony fingers wrapped around the shaft and he gasped in surprise, feeling his fingers rather cold against the hot skin. He gave himself a few good, hard tugs before he pulled down his briefs just far enough to take himself out. Soft pants and moans could be heard over the line and his eyelids dropped as he started to stroke himself in an almost agonizingly slow pace; his surroundings slowly eclipsed as he fell deeper and deeper into the smooth murmur of her voice.

“I'm straddling you, grinding down on that rock hard bulge in your pants, slipping my hand down between my legs, playing with my clit...” In his fantasy someone strangely akin to Eva Longoria was hovering over him, bending down to him...he hissed out a breath, his hand twisting round the head. “...it's so hot and moist, smells sweet, my finger glides right down the slit...” Something about the unrestrained explicitness in the way she talked made him twitch and writhe on the bed shamelessly. His eyes rolling into the back of his head, Bill let out a low strangled moan as he gripped himself a little harder, feeling the familiar ache starting to swell in his stomach.

“Go on...” The barely suppressed wantonness in his own voice made him blush all over. She was really getting to him.  
“Let me suck your cock, please...” His breath hitched at her shameless pleading; a short flash of guilt shot through him – how could he enjoy this so much, the dirty talk, this whiny entreating? The thought vanished almost as suddenly as it had come up...by now his brain activity had shut down well enough to let him enjoy this; thinking and jacking off didn't go very well together. Clamping down the phone between his shoulder and the side of his head, Bill brought his hand up to his mouth, thoroughly licking the inside of it till his palm was slick with his own saliva. He didn't really think about it, just wanted it to feel as close to the real thing as possible. He heard her moaning around something, his excitement spiking as he heard a subdued gagging sound. He whimpered softly as he took himself in hand again and started to jerk faster and harder. Slurping and sucking; and then that gagging again, only louder this time

“Oh yeah, baby...you like that? Does it feel good?” Her breathy voice sent shivers racing down his spine, his toes curling, as his slick palm nuzzled the head. “My tongue all over you, licking and sucking your hard meat?” The sound of his own ragged breathing almost covered the uber-realistic sounds wafting through the line and Bill strained to hear her sucking and lapping at whatever the hell it was she had in her mouth right now.

“Mmmm make me take it, stuff your enormous cock down my throat, make me gag...” Her words drove the heat into his cheeks; no one had ever talked like that to him; it made his heart pound, the sheer crudeness of it all getting him off as much as the pleasures his own touch evoked. He thrust up into his hand, a loud moan slipping past his lips, as his hand closed even tighter around the shaft, the beautiful friction increasing a hundredfold. His pace quickened and he knew he wouldn't be long now.

“Are you close?” Her voice was barely above a whisper in his ear; Bill squeezed his eyes shut, his mind already working in overdrive, trying to keep up with the thrills shooting through his body, making him tremble all over. Random images flashed across his mind, vanishing almost as quickly as they popped up; his first really good French kiss...that groupie who had given him a knee buckling blow job in Stuttgart, the lap-dancing chick at the porn party, how she had ground down on him, her tits bouncing in his face...

He moaned something indistinct in reply, feeling himself breaking into a sweat as he teased the head of his throbbing hard on, scratching himself with his fake acrylic nails on purpose. The self-inflicted abuse pushed him a big step towards completion, his back arching off the bed, as a mixture of pain and pleasure roared through him, momentarily drowning out everything else around him. As he came apart it was all he could do to keep the phone next to his ear. He needed to hear that voice. By now it hardly registered with his dazed mind what she exactly said; only every now and then did his brain pick up a certain dirty word; that, combined with her husky murmuring and moaning, pushed him closer and closer to the edge.  
Somewhere, far off her voice slipped into his ear “Come for me baby, shoot your hot load right into my eager mouth!”

A loud groan fought its way out, as his body went rigid for a couple of seconds;  
“Shit, Charly...gawd!” He cursed loudly between shallow panting breaths, not even bothering with the fact that he was yelling a phone-sex girls make-believe name, as he came. The stinging heat pooling in his stomach finally swapped over and he felt warm sticky fluid on his hand, then on his belly, as a tender agony swept over him, leaving him light-headed.

______________________

 

Tom stopped dead in his tracks as his brother's incessant moaning, drifting out of the closed hotel room, registered with him as he walked by.  
“Shit, Charly...gawd!” Bill's voice sounded strangled and raspy. Another moan.  
Tom's eyes grew as big a saucers, he flushed a deep crimson. Charly. So his brother might be gay after all...  
Tom shook his head vigorously, as if to propel the notion out of his head by sheer physical force. Bill...gay? Well, it figured somehow, he mused, before he broke into a jog down the hallway, his ears still burning with embarrassment as he finally reached the elevator.

_______________________

 

His whole body went limp and the phone slipped from his shoulders; out of the corner of his eye, he saw it bounce over the cushions and landing in the ridge between the two mattresses of the bed. It felt like every single bone in his body had turned into jell-o.

Absentmindedly he stroked himself a couple more times, wincing as the now so sensitive head burned and stung as he touched it; Bill's head flopped back into the cushions as he tried to regain a half way normal rhythm of breathing. His heart was still racing and it felt like someone had covered him with an electric blanket; he felt way too warm, feverish even. Wiping a thin film of sweat from his forehead with one hand, he groped around for the phone with his other. His throat felt incredibly dry and he heaved a raspy cough or else, he was sure, his voice would not raise itself above a hoarse whisper.

“Had fun, sweety?” Her cheerful voice made him blush slightly. She had probably heard, if not everything, then sure as hell a lot. Bill knew he was rather vocal but the notion that a complete stranger had just heard him at the peak of ecstasy, even if it was just over the phone, still made him ill at ease somehow.  
“Yeah, that was pretty...wow” It was a lame reply but his brain had still not caught up to its normal working capacity again; wow was all he could muster up in way of a description right now. Considering she had him reduced to a pre-verbal level of grunts and moans less than a minute ago, wow was pretty sophisticated anyways.

“Thanks for calling, baby. Have a nice day! Bye-bye.” Charly announced in a chipper voice; the line went dead before he could say anything in reply. He tried to put the phone back into his station; but his movements were off, his motor control pretty much gone out the window; the phone landed with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. Bill sighed and melted back into the cushions with an almost boneless grace; as he stared blankly at the ceiling, the afterglow of his orgasm still tingling through the far ends of his body, he considered telling Tom about all this. He snickered to himself as he rolled over and curled up into fetal position; his twin would piss himself laughing if he ever knew Bill had called one of those hot lines. _Nevermind_ , Bill thought as his eyes fell close, his drowsiness finally taking over and he drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [ParabooBizarre @ Livejournal.com](http://paraboobizarre.livejournal.com/)


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